Opting In
by LuchaLibre82
Summary: Starts at the end of the Season 2 finale. Will be a multi-chapter story. Michonne rescues Andrea in the woods and they stay together through the cold winter months. Eventual femslash...'cause...duh.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **Opting In

**Pairing: **Andrea/Michonne

**Rating:** M

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing from The Walking Dead, and I make no money off of this story. Don't sue me

...

**Chapter 1**

...

Andrea had been running for hours. The few times she had been gifted precious seconds to stop and breathe, she reached for more ammo, for a knife when the ammo was gone, for anything her hands could grip. They were always close behind her, never tiring. She tripped often and she stumbled, but she kept running. As much as her body hurt, as much as her lungs wanted to collapse on her, she kept running through forest that seemed to never end.

She'd been left. As much as she would have loved to wallow in that fact right now there was just no time. She had to keep running.

When she'd left the farm it was dark out and now the sun shone brightly, it's warmth providing her little comfort against the chill in the air. When she'd left the farm there had been dozens following her. She had killed all but three.

_I will not die, I will not die, I will not die,_ was the mantra that echoed in her head. The faces of those she'd lost to date smiled at her as the words blared over and over again; Jacqui, Sophia, Dale...Amy. _I will not die_. Amy. _I will not die_.

The three walkers who still pursued her were getting closer. She was out of ammo, but she still had her gun. She whirled around to face the closest one to her and she slammed the handle into it's skull. It fell to the ground then and she bashed it's head in again until her gun handle and her hand were dripping with black blood and dead brains. Another walker crept up on her, but she was quickly able to pull her blade out from her pocket. She forcefully buried it in it's skull through a nostril.

It fell too.

One more.

_I will not die_.

Andrea lost her footing then and the last of the walkers towered over her. She crawled back, trying to create distance between her body and the zombie's. It was on her then. She tried to fight it off, pushing with what strength she had left on rotten gray skin and torn muscle. It snapped at her, growling and screaming. She screamed back. Primally. Enraged.

_Well,__** fuck**__. If I die I won't go easy_, she thought to herself then.

Andrea fought. She pushed, but she was being overpowered. Gray teeth snapped down just over her head.

She heard the swish of a slick metal cutting through the air and then through bone, and she felt the cold splatter of blood on her neck a second later. The walker's head flew off of his body, and another creature stood before her, cloaked and ominous.

...

Michonne stopped dead in her tracks at the noise. Leaves rustling under feet that ran clumsily. Her undead companions heard it too and they became agitated. She perked her ears at the direction of the sound. It was moving closer to her. She drew her blade.

She saw movement then; blonde hair and pink skin in dirty clothes. Gray rotting flesh nipping at its heels. A woman and monsters closing in on her. Michonne watched the woman take two of them down viciously. They were close now and she could feel the woman's desperation. She could practically hear her thoughts.

_I will not die_.

Michonne moved towards them, tugging at the chains that she held in her hands. She saw the blonde woman stumble and fall after having taken down the second of the three monsters that chased her. The third moved in for its kill. It grabbed at her. It growled and crawled on top of her, but the woman scrambled and fought. She screamed. An angry living woman's scream, not the guttural growls and groans of the dead who walked the earth now, but a living woman's scream. It was the most beautiful sound Michonne had heard in ages.

The woman would not die. Not if Michonne had any say in the matter.

She walked up behind them silently, her pets in tow. She raised her blade when she was in reach and she decapitated the beast effortlessly. Its head, jaw still snapping, flew away and its body to the slumped to the ground. She shook her blade then slightly, ridding it of any chunks of flesh that lingered.

The blonde gawked up at her, eyes wide. She choked a little and she inched back slightly, trying to get a sense of what had just happened.

"I," she began, but she didn't seem to know what else to say.

...

_I will not die_.

Andrea stared at her rescuer for several moments before gulping and bending forward in an awkward attempt to get to her feet. She wanted to sob. She wanted to run right up to the person and kiss them on the mouth for helping her, but she just stood there, frozen, in quite a bit of shock.

The person pulled the hood of their cloak back and revealed their face to her once she was standing. They...she, was a black skinned woman with a hard jaw, fierce eyes, full lips and a mane of black dreadlocks. After the day Andrea had just survived, her savior could have been grotesque and they would have still been the most beautiful thing in the world to her, but the woman before her was far from grotesque. She was stunning and she was powerful.

"Are you bitten?" the black woman asked her then. Her voice was quiet and calm, but it still elicited a jerk from Andrea, who's senses were intensely heightened by the adrenaline that flowed through her. Andrea didn't say anything is response, she just stared, her mouth slightly ajar. Her savior spoke again, "Woman? Are you bitten?"

"Um...no," Andrea stuttered, shaking her head as she scanned her arms, making sure, "No, I'm not."

"We should move then," the woman said then, "It's not safe here."

Andreas eyes and shoulders dropped, the woman's words snapping her back into reality and assaulting her with the memory of all she had just lived through. Her body started to shake, despite every effort on her part to stop it from doing so. Her faced twisted in torment, and tears started pouring down her cheeks.

She cried.

...

Michonne let her cry for a few moments, not knowing what else to do. The woman sobbed, her fingers gripping at her hair.

"We should move," Michonne whispered again after the few seconds that she could allow the woman had passed. The cries and the noise produced by everything that had just transpired had her fearing whatever else still stalked the woods surrounding them.

The blonde snapped her eyes up to meet Michonne's, her face still twisted in anguish, and her eyes shining with fresh tears. She tried to breathe in deeply, to settle herself, but her efforts just produced another shaking sob. She bent over and rested her hands on her knees. Her body still quaked and salty tears fell to the ground. She tried for air again, this time more successfully. She breathed in deeply several times, collecting herself finally and she lifted her head back up, meeting Michonne's dark eyes again.

"Okay," she whispered, trying not to break down.

...

"Okay," Michonne echoed her, nodding slightly. They stood there, awkwardly facing each other for a beat before the blonde walked towards the fallen body of the second monster Michonne had seen her kill. She lifted the handle of a bag that she had dropped onto the ground over her shoulder. She stepped towards the body then and she ripped the knife that she had planted in its face out. Her hands shook violently as she attempted to wipe the blade on her pants before tucking it away. Michonne watched her intently. She looked around at the forest then, seemingly searching, but for what Michonne had no idea. She stopped and huffed. She was ready.

She stepped towards Michonne without a word. The black woman handed her a canteen filled with water and the blonde drank several gulps from it before returning it to her They started walking east, towards the sun that had risen some hours ago. They said nothing to each other for a long while, choosing instead to inspect one another any chance they got.

Staying quiet was safer.

After an hour they reached a clearing in the wood where a tent and other camping gear had been abandoned a long time ago. Andrea's eyes brightened briefly, hoping that this campsite was either of the sites she and had come across on her search for Sophia with the group, but upon closer examination she realized that it wasn't.

Michonne tethered her pets to a tree so that she could look around for any forgotten supplies unhindered. It seemed as if the camp hadn't yet been scavenged and she was more than willing to be the first. Andrea stood and watched her for a moment, before moving to help in the search for anything that might be of use to them. Her hands were still shaking from the adrenaline that hadn't fully regulated itself yet. They made quick work of their search, finding little of value besides a lonely bottle of fresh water, a poncho, two cans of white beans and a can of stewed tomatoes.

Michonne sat on a log then and she flexed her shoulders and her feet, readying herself for the rest of her journey; to where she had no clue. Andrea followed her lead and sat down on a log opposite her. She reached over to rub a shoulder, doing what little she could to ease even one hundreds of aching muscles. Realizing that her efforts were pointless, she pulled the bag that she had carried over to her feet and started clearing empty ammunition boxes out of it, and organizing what she had managed to hold on to in her escape. Two high powered shotguns, a revolver and the pistol that she pulled out of her pocket and attempted to wipe clean before placing it in the bag. The gun her father had given her so many months ago was gone and she felt a pang in her heart as she realized it. It was all she had left of him. She sighed, hoping that one of the others had it with them; that it might help keep them safe.

"I need ammo," Andrea mumbled to herself, not looking up at her new companion as she said the words.

"I think you need food," Michonne responded, reaching into her bag for a can opener and handing it to the other woman along with one of the cans for beans they had found. Andrea lifted her eyes to meet Michonne's and she nodded, her expression blank.

She opened the can with a bit of effort as her hands still trembled and she handed the can opener back to Michonne. Michonne took it without a word and handed her a clean fork in its place. Andrea ate then. She hadn't realized how hungry she was.

They sat in silence for several moments while Andrea polished off the beans. When she realized they were gone she looked up at Michonne apologetically.

"I ate earlier," Michonne told her. Andrea nodded.

"I'm Andrea," she said quietly when neither of them had spoken for several minutes.

"Michonne," the black woman offered. Andrea nodded, absorbing the woman's pronunciation of her name so that she could avoid butchering it when the came time for her to use it.

"Thanks...for your help earlier," Andrea told her after a long pause.

"You're welcome," Michonne nodded at her, her voice quiet and even as she said the words. She eyed the blonde woman in front of her curiously, "You had been running for some time?" she spoke again.

"Yeah," Andrea whispered, drifting into her memory for a moment before snapping back into the present, "Yeah, I had been."

"From where," Michonne asked.

"There was a farm. North of here...? I think North. I'm not exactly sure. It got over run last night," Andrea answered her solemnly, "I had to run."

"How long?" Michonne asked her, quietly pushing for more information.

"I don't know. Hours? It was dark out when I left," Andrea told her, her brow furrowing as she tried to figure it out.

"How many were there?" Michonne asked then.

"Hundreds on the farm," Andrea said, her voice shaking a little as she spoke, "Dozens followed me. I kept taking them out when I could and running. Used up what ammo I had."

"You can handle yourself then," Michonne observed. Andrea arched an eyebrow at her.

"I guess I can," she replied, sighing, "And I guess I owe you one."

"You do," Michonne told her, her voice flat, "Keep yourself alive long enough to repay the favor. Drink," she insisted, handing Andrea the bottle of water they had found, and grabbing her canteen to sip on some of her own. Andrea gulped the water down, dehydrated and starting to feel as much as her adrenaline settled with her food. She looked over at Michonne after draining the bottle.

"Where are you from?" Andrea asked her. Michonne considered her for a few moments before responding, hesitantly.

"Atlanta," she said, her hard eyes not welcoming further inquiry, which didn't phase the blonde.

"And your friends?" Andrea asked her then, glancing over at the walkers who lightly tugged at their chains towards them.

"Atlanta," Michonne replied, glaring back at her then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of The Walking Dead and I make no dollars off of this. Please don't sue me, 'cause I have nooothing, and it would be a waste of your time.

**Author's** **Note**: Thanks for the kind reviews to the first chapter! Here is chapter 2! I'll hopefully have the third up soon. This one is just settling them down from the last one and setting them up for what's coming down the road. Hoping for all the inspirations from the next episode too (Eeeek...). Enjoy! Cheers!

...

**Ch. 2**

...

"_So_," Andrea started as she watched Michonne rise to her feet. She collected herself to leave. Andrea followed suit standing and pulling her bag of weapons over her shoulder, "Do we have a destination?"

Michonne said nothing to her. She turned to the walkers that were still tethered to a tree and she gathered their chains into her hands after untying them. They seemed to grow excited as she neared them, but they both settled within a few seconds, unable to act on their desire to grab her, or to bite her, theirs arms and their lower jaws having been hacked off. Michonne tugged at their chains and they followed her out of the clearing and into the brush.

Andrea quickly stepped to follow them, leaving plenty of space between her and the walkers as she rounded them to catch up to Michonne, matching the other woman's brisk pace.

"Michonne?' Andrea said, her voice quiet. Michonne spared her a glance. She said nothing for several moments.

"No," the black woman finally spoke, her voice flat, "We don't have a destination, unless you have rumor of somewhere to go. I was heading north when I met you, but I want to move away from your horde. We have been traveling east thus far."

"Right," Andrea sighed, not at all fond of the idea of wandering aimlessly as exposed as they were, "Atlanta is south. The farm is north or northwest, I think. So..."

"We keep going east," Michonne finished for her. They walked for several minutes before Andrea spoke up again.

"If I upset you...back at the camp, I'm sorry," she muttered. Michonne did not look at her.

"It's fine," she finally said after several moment. Andrea nodded slightly before speaking again, her voice quiet.

"How long have you been in the woods?" she asked her companion.

"Not long. Three days now. I've slept in trees," Michonne answered her.

"Before then?" Andrea pressed for more information.

"There was an old farm house. We...I stayed in the basement for a week. Found some food there and finished it off," she answered, looking straight ahead.

They both heard a rustle in the woods ahead of them and they stopped immediately. Michonne's eye's narrowed and she reached for the handle of her blade, gripping it, but not drawing it. Andrea pulled her small knife from her pocket and flipped the blade out. She waited alongside Michonne, her jaws set stubbornly and her stance ready for a fight, but her eyes wide and worried. A bird flew up through the trees then. Both women watched it for several moments, before relaxing slightly as they realized that it had been the source of the noise. Michonne turned to Andrea and their eyes met for a moment before she turned away and resumed walking. Andrea followed her.

"I've mostly just walked," Michonne whispered, "Haven't seen another living person in...in a really long time."

Andrea's expression softened towards the other woman at her words. She had been with her group this whole time. She hadn't had to face this new world alone. She had no idea how lucky she had been. That was over now. Her blood family was gone. The people she had come to recognize as her family in the last few months; despite their overwhelming differences; they were gone now too. She missed her gun. Her bright blue eyes stung and a single tear rolled down her cheek a second later. She quickly wiped it away and kept walking, picking up her pace a little. Michonne matched her speed without a thought.

They walked quietly for several hours, stopping only for a few minutes in the early afternoon to open the can of beans they had found earlier that day, which they shared in silence. They watched each other as they walked from time to time, each woman studying the other's movements and expressions, hoping to get a better sense of her companion.

Andrea thought of Shane. She remembered when she suggested to him that they break away from others and face the world on their own; free of the burdensome sentimentality and the complications of the rest of the group. Much to Dale's dismay, and rather unwisely it seemed, she had found a cohort in the hotheaded deputy. She naively figured that they could make do.

As she found herself parted from her fellow of survivors, however, with just one other living soul at her side, she was terrified. As she found herself parted from the group she had come to love, as much as she figured she could love anything in these dark times, she missed them. Each and every one of them.

She's missed Rick's stubborn humanity. She missed Lori's determination and her cunning mind. She missed Carl's young face immensely; and his sweetness, an aspect of his youthful character that had already started to fade, no match for the harshness of his existence. She missed Carol's strength and her composure. She missed Daryl's ferocity and the gentle nature that he had let her see on a rare occasion. She missed Glenn's humility and his diligence. She missed T-Dawg's diplomacy and his laugh. She even missed Hershel and his bright-eyed daughters. She felt a sting of guilt as she thought of them; guilt at having been part of their rude awakening to the reality of the world. As necessary as it had been, it had also been incredibly rude. She missed Shane, but she wondered if she had ever really known him. She thought she had, but the reality of the world was that it was changing people, so many people; into monsters.

She missed Dale.

She missed Amy.

She really missed her gun.

Andrea sighed and looked back at the mutilated walkers that followed Michonne. A second later she was slamming directly into the black woman's back, not having realized that Michonne had come to a dead stop.

"Shit," she hissed, "Sorry..."

"Shhh..." Michonne whispered, cutting her off and snaking an arm back around her to hold Andrea's body still at her waist. They were silent for several moments, Andrea looking at her companion, her face questioning. Michonne spoke again, "Listen."

Andrea listened very closely then and she heard it. Running water in the distance. She smiled. Running water could mean that they were close to a town, or homes, which meant the possibility of scavenging for ammunition and food. Michonne turned to look at her. Her dark eyes focused in on the blonde's small smile for a split second before they rose to meet Andrea's.

"Stay behind me until we get...somewhere. Until you find some bullets for those guns," she commanded quietly. While Andrea never much liked taking orders she was used to it by now, and she saw the sense in what Michonne was telling her to do. If they were nearing supplies, they were also potentially nearing walkers and Andrea had very little to defend herself with at this point.

Andrea nodded and they stepped forward. A few minutes later they saw it. An active stream that trickled over pebbles rapidly. They looked around, not seeing any walkers. Michonne's eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a small bridge about a half a mile downstream. She looked over at Andrea and saw that she had already noticed the structure. Her blue eyes shone brightly, and the sight of them caused a small lump to form in Michonne's throat. She turned away and started walking towards it, Andrea close behind her and her pets shuffling slowly at their rear.

Michonne hadn't been around another living person since it all started. At first she wasn't able to find survivors who didn't pose a threat to her as a woman alone in the world, save for the company of her effectively harmless dead companions. Not long after she decided that she didn't want to find anyone for awhile; discouraged, effectively traumatized by the fact that the world she knew had literally ended around her, and not knowing how exactly to come to terms with either fact.

She had started wondering about the living recently, however, having processed what she could, after happening upon fresh the corpses of two human men, shot in the head, their remains left in a small town bar that had been riddled with bullet holes.

She had been excited to discover the woman who now accompanied her, though she wasn't exactly sure that she had been ready.

They walked along the stream until they reached a dirt road that ran perpendicular to it and into the small red bridge. They walked over the bridge and continued down the road for an hour until they came across a chicken wire fence. There were trees beyond the fence, but through them and in the distance the shape of a white house could be seen. They walked until they reached an open gate at the end of the weak barrier and they slowly wandered up a rocky driveway that extended the length of several acres.

When they finally reached the house they were greeted by a single walker; a male child, no more than ten years old. It dragged its small feet around in circles, quietly and aimlessly, until it caught wind of them. It immediately moved towards them, growling. Michonne drew her blade and she impaled it through an eye socket without hesitation. The end of her sword tore through the creature's skull and out the back of its head. She pulled her blade back and its body fell to the ground.

An image of Carl flashed through Andrea's head as she watched the scene unfold before her, but she quickly pushed it away. Michonne stepped towards the house silently and Andrea followed her. The black woman tied her walkers to a wooden post a the bottom of the stairs that led up to a wrap around porch. They growled and hissed at her quietly as she stepped away from them.

"I'll look around and clear it out," she told Andrea as they climbed the stairs. Andrea nodded, silently stepping to the side, her knife in her hand. Michonne crept into the house through a door that was wide open.

She found no walkers inside, only the bodies of a man and a woman in a living area. It looked as if the man had shot the woman in the temple before turning his revolver on himself. The back of his skull had been blown open through his mouth. Their corpses were slumped over on a couch. She crept through the house quietly for several minutes, entering every room, a cellar and an attic, ready to dispose of any monsters she happened across, but there were none. She sheathed her blade and walked back outside to inform the other woman who was waiting quietly on the porch still, scanning the woods that surrounded the house for any other threats.

"We're good," Michonne told her. Andrea turned to face her and nodded.

"Yeah, it's quiet out here. Any food?" Andrea asked.

"I haven't checked yet," Michonne answered her quietly, "There was a gun."

Andrea grinned at her and hurried into the house.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own 'em, don't sue!

...

**Ch. 3**

...

The sun was starting to set as the two women settled into the house. Michonne moved her walkers inside and towards the living area where she had discovered the corpses a few minutes earlier. Andrea was collecting the revolver and what ammunition she could find in the room as Michonne ushered them in.

Andrea looked up at them, her cheer at finally having a few bullets in her hand instantly fading as they neared her.

"You won't leave them outside?" she muttered to the other woman, who avoided her eyes as she tethered the walker's chains to the foot of the large sectional sofa where the bodies rested. Her pets were starved and weak. She trusted that they wouldn't be able to pull the large piece of furniture from where it stood.

"No," Michonne answered her, eyes still averted. She pulled a heavy pack off of one of the walker's shoulders and threw it over her own. The creature grumbled in her face as she did, just an inch away from her. She ignored it and slowly backed away from them as they watched her, their eyes blank and rotting in their heads.

"Okay," Andrea huffed, rolling her eyes.

"We'll sleep in the attic. If anything else should find the house they'll alert us," Michonne told her before she turned to walk out of the room and towards the kitchen which was across the hall. She called back to Andrea, "Their smell will cover ours."

"Oh," Andrea breathed quietly.

She rose to her feet then, tucking her loot into her bag. She made her way towards the kitchen where Michonne was searching through the pantry for food, setting what she found onto the floor at her feet.

There was enough to last them a little while, a week and a half to two weeks at least. There were canned vegetables, canned fish, dried beans and oats, a full jar of recently expired peanut butter, a few cans of stew and a jar of honey. Andrea eyed it all hungrily.

"Is the water running? These places usually have a well," She asked as she moved to test the tap, unsuccessfully.

"We can look for a well, but if it was sealed it was probably for good reason. That stream isn't far. There's a gallon here that will get us through the night," Michonne told her gesturing towards the pantry floor, "We can go gather more to boil tomorrow."

Andrea nodded as she proceeded to rummage through the cabinets for any more food, finding none. She did fine a delicious looking bottle of scotch, however, and she tucked it into her bag. She stepped towards Michonne then and packed what she could fit of the food on the floor into the duffel bag as well. She glanced up at the other woman who was reaching for a can of tuna that was hidden towards the back of the top shelf. Michonne handed the can to her then, her expression hard, and she nodded towards the kitchen entryway as she reached down for the gallon of drinking water.

They wandered through the house, Michonne pausing to cautiously reinspect the rooms that she had peeked into earlier, before moving down a hallway and towards the ladder that hung down from the attic entry. Andrea moved more slowly, stoppinh to look at pictures that hung on the walls and through closets and dresser drawers in the rooms for more ammunition.

"Hand me what bedding you find," Michonne called to her quietly before climbing up the steps and into the attic, "I don't have much and what I do have needs replacing."

"Okay," Andrea called back to her, finally finding the case that had once housed the revolver she'd claimed in the master bedroom's closet. In it she discovered a half empty box of bullets for the gun.

She quickly tucked them into her bag and proceeded to gather a large quilt and the comforter that lay on the bed, as well as several smaller blankets from the closet into her arms. Andrea moved towards the ladder and handed the pile of blankets up to Michonne, who extended her dark arms down to her. She lifted the black duffel bag that she carried and Michonne grabbed it and pulled up through the opening. Andrea turned back towards the bedroom to gather a few more blankets and two pillows, before she awkwardly made her way up the ladder.

Michonne was in the process of lighting an oil lantern that had been hanging from the side of her pack. It let them see each other and the room that they would inhabit, hopefully undisturbed, for the night. It was mostly bare with the exception of a few dusty cardboard boxes and a massive black chest, all filled with miscellaneous paperwork, old clothes, and quite a few of the memories of the people who lay dead down below.

Andrea sorted through a box of clothes, looking for something that might fit her and eager to get the sweat stained, bloodstained, dirt and muck stained clothes that she currently wore off of her body. She found a well worn Georgia Tech sweatshirt and a pair of black and white checkered flannel pajama pants, and she beamed at them. They looked wonderfully inviting.

Michonne got right to work situating a sleeping area with the bedding Andrea had collected. When the pallet she created appeared comfortable enough, she moved towards Andrea's bag and proceeded to unload the food that they had found. She organized it into a neat pile and when she was done she turned to Andrea who had been watching her intently for the past few minutes, her change of clothes bundled in her lap.

"What?" Michonne asked, perplexed as to why the woman was staring at her.

"Oh," Andrea whispered, shaking her head and smiling a little crookedly, embarrassed at having been caught staring, "Nothing. Sorry. You're just, really...organized."

"Oh," Michonne mumbled then, before dropping her eyes to the floor, "Yeah, when I can be."

Andrea's small smile warmed as she rose to her feet.

"I'm going to...change. Do you mind...just," she stuttered then.

Michonnne's dark eyes shot up to meet Andrea's.

"Oh. Right," she choked, quickly turning around to give her new companion some privacy.

Andrea kicked off her boots and stripped naked then and she quickly threw on the clothes she had just found. They were loose on her, but incredibly comfortable and much cleaner than what he had just taken off.

"Okay," she sighed. Michonne turned back around slowly to face her again.

"Better?" Michonne asked, eyeing the baggy clothes the blonde now wore.

"Much," Andrea nodded, "Thank you."

"Yeah, of course," Michonne said quickly, nodding at her, before turning her focus to the opening at her feet, "Do you need to go back down for anything?"

"No, I don't think so," Andrea told her, stepping towards the pile of food and examining it closely.

Michonne pulled the ladder up then and sealed the attic door. She moved towards the large chest that sat a few feet away and started pushing it towards the entryway, hoping to provided as much of an obstacle as possible for anyone, or anything, that may might bother them.

"Can I...?" Andrea started to ask as she stepped towards the other woman who was having to exert quiteis but of energy to move the heavy chest, but Michonne just shook her head and waved her away.

"I got it," she huffed, finally positioning the rectangular, leather bound box over the door.

Andrea stepped back towards the food and examined it all again, her body screaming at her for sustenance.

"I guess I should let you have first dibs," she told the other woman as she stared at the selection, smirking shyly as she spoke, "I mean, since you saved my ass earlier and all. Seems fair."

"Save mine one day and eat what you want," Michonne replied curtly as she ripped cardboard flaps from the few boxes in the room.

She pulled a roll of duct tape from her bag and she stepped towards the attic's one window and started covering it. When that task was completed she walked back towards the chest and she sat on top of it, letting herself rest for a moment. Andrea grabbed a can of beef stew and she settled herself cross legged on the pallet Michonne had made. Michonne grabbed another. They opened them and ate in silence.

It was dark outside by the time they finished their meal. They together quietly for a few minutes, not quite knowing what to say to each other. Michonne finally broke the silence, standing and moving towards her pack to retrieve a tattered book and the lantern that sat next to it, still burning. She turned and stepped towards the window then.

"I can take the first watch. You should sleep," she told the other woman firmly.

"I might argue with you any other day," she mumbled, nodding and slowly laying her head back on a pillow. She shifted her body and the blankets, trying to get as comfortable as possible, when she remembered the bottle of liquor she had found earlier and she reached for it, twisting it open with a grin.

"Michonne?" she turned to the other woman and held the glass bottle out to her.

"No. Thank you," Michonne told her quietly.

Andrea shrugged and she swallowed a swig of the scotch, squinting a little at the intensity of it as it trickled down her throat. She smiled then and helped herself to another swallow of it before recapping the bottle and setting it to the side. The drink warmed her gut instantly, as it did the rest of her body within a few short minutes. She pulled the quilt up over her chest and tucked her arm behind her head to elevate it a little. She turned to look over at the other woman again. She sat cross legged on the floor, her blade tucked at her side. She was already immersed in her reading, but her ears actively listened for any suspicious noise from the outside world.

"Wake me," Andrea murmured, turning to lay on her side to face Michonne then, "If you get tired, just wake me up and I'll take over. Don't hesitate."

Michonne nodded, her eyes never leaving the pages of her book. Andrea watched her, intrigued by her composure, her severity, and her quiet. Michonne had told her earlier that she hadn't been around another living person in a really long time, but she didn't seem at all eager to interact. Andrea wondered if she was just shy, or if she was traumatized. She wondered what the woman before her had been like before everything changed. She watched Michonne for several minutes as she felt her body and her mind grow tried, everything she had been through in the last twenty four hours weighing on her as she quietly considered her new companion.

"I can gather up some more blankets tomorrow. I might see if they had a sleeping bag tucked away somewhere," Andrea said then, fighting her exhaustion and hoping to spark a conversation, "The nights are getting colder."

Michonne nodded again, appearing entirely disinterested in the blonde.

Andrea sighed. She said nothing else for several minutes. She tried to sleep for another several minutes, but she couldn't, despite her physical and emotional depletion. She sighed again and perched her head onto the hand that had been resting under it. She studied Michonne intently for a second and then she tried to make out the cover of the book the woman read, but it was pitifully torn and faded.

"What are you reading?" she murmured to the other woman, snuggling her body further into the pallet and resting her head down on her arm again.

"George Jackson," Michonne answered her brusquely.

"Ah," Andrea nodded, smiling a little, "What do you think?"

Michonne looked up at her then, her expression unreadable. Andrea was staring back at her. Michonne knew that the type of day her new companion had just survived would leave many restless and agitated, even when given the opportunity to rest. She had hoped that wouldn't be the case when it came to the woman who lay across the room from her, but it seemed that she wasn't that fortunate.

Michonne found that she didn't quite know how to talk to the woman. She had spent too much time alone. she worried that she had lost the ability to communicate more than the specifics survival to another person. She didn't know if the condition was permanent, but she did know that in that moment, she really didn't want to talk.

She couldn't quite remember how.

She wanted the other woman to sleep, and she wanted to read.

She wanted to check out.

"It's," Michonne started with a huff, before she sighed and searched for the right word to answer the blonde's query, "It's applicable."

Andrea smiled at her brightly and it made Michonne's breathing catch. She blushed and inwardly kicked herself, despite the fact that there was no way the other woman would have seen it in the dimly lit room and on Michonne's dark complexion.

"I guess it is," Andrea whispered. She paused for a moment, her mind working quickly trying to remember the author's words that she herself had read many years ago, "He was a warrior. A survivor."

Michonne nodded response to Andrea's assesment and she immediately refoxused her gaze on the book, hoping to be left alone now.

"How have you...applied it?" Andrea mumbled then, sleepily.

Michonne lifted her gaze to look at the blanket covered blonde who was shrouded in darkness, but who's blue eyes shimmered at her from across the room.

"I..." Michonne choked out, caught off guard at the question. She consider it for a moment before answering, "I sleep less. It's served me well. You should though...you should sleep."

Andrea chuckled and her smile warmed significantly. She snuggled into the pallet again and yawned.

"Yeah, I guess I should," she whispered.

She sighed and finally closed her eyes and drifted away within a few moments.

Michonne's eyes stayed glued to the other woman's sleeping form, completely forgetting about her book, but her ears remained perked and listening closely for any hint of danger.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: **The Walking Dead (in all its brilliance) does not belong to me. Michonne and Andrea (in all their dead sexy brilliance) do not belong to me. I make no money off this ditty, so please don't sue me, y'all.

**A/N: **Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, and keep 'me coming! Here is Chapter 4. Enjoy!

...

**Ch. 4**

...

Andrea's upper body jolted forward. She reached for her little sister. Amy was being dragged away from her by half a dozen walkers that tore into her lower half as they pulled her towards them. Her thin pale arms were extended, reaching for anything that might help her. Her face was contorted in pain, and her mouth screamed.

"Amy," Andrea breathed, her voice catching in her throat as her eyes finally opened and she saw only darkness. Her sister was gone. The creatures were gone.

She had been dreaming. Her eyes stung with tears, but she quickly blinked them away as she tried to settle her rapid breathing. She reached her hands to her temples and rubbed them for a few moments before she scanned the room around her.

She rose to her feet and sleepily stepped towards the attic's one window. She discovered that it was morning when she pulled the cardboard that covered it away, just a fraction of an inch, and she peered through the glass to get a glimpse of the outside world.

She had no clue how long she'd slept, but she figured it had to have been at least twelve hours. Longer even. She frowned. Michonne hadn't woken her to take watch and Andrea knew that the younger woman needed to sleep. She was only human, after all.

Andrea was pretty sure she was, anyhow. Her new companion's severity and her staunch composure; her brusque demeanor and her utter lack of warmth thus far would cause many to wonder. Andrea wasn't the warmest of people; not by any stretch of the imagination, but the woman who had wandered into her life the day before, to save it, seemed to have her beat when it came to frigidity.

Andrea yawned and scratched at her head, scanning the room again as she did, still frowning and struggling to come to completely. Michonne was gone. The blonde panicked a little inwardly when she finally realized as much, but she forced herself to remain calm. She noticed that the trunk used to fortify the entrance the night before had been pushed away from the attic door and a cardboard box now covered the hole. It was filled with clothes and significantly lighter.

Andrea pushed it out of her way easily and her eyes squinted at the dim light that shone up through the entrance. She blinked twice, settling her pupils and she proceeded to climb down the ladder, into the hallway of the house they'd claimed the night before. She crept down the hall quietly, hugging her arms around her upper body, her fingers gripping at the sweatshirt she had worn to sleep. The sunlight grew brighter as she neared the front of the house.

She heard a quiet voice and she paused to listen. It was Michonne. Andrea sighed, relieved. She had worried that Michonne had abandoned her in the house to face the world and it terrors alone. She was glad to have been mistaken.

Michonne must have heard her sigh, or felt the waves of relief that poured from Andrea in that moment, because her voice silenced instantly.

Andrea moved towards the living room and she found the black woman sitting in a far corner of it. Michonne's dark eyes rose to meet her gaze. Her pet walkers stood at the ends of their chains and calmly looked down at where she sat. They turned when they sensed Andrea's approach. They grumbled quietly at her, but they didn't move.

"Hey," Andrea called out quietly.

Michonne rose to her feet quickly. Her sword was sheathed at her side and the book she had been reading when Andrea had drifted to sleep, too many hours ago for her liking, was closed and in her hands.

"You're up," she acknowledged, swiftly moving towards the white woman. Andrea nodded slightly, a small smile settling on her lips.

"You didn't wake me," she said, her voice a sounding a bit puzzled.

"You needed to rest," Michonne responded evenly as she approached Andrea where she stood in the hallway. She passed the her and stepped into the hallway and back towards the attic.

"Not for half a day," Andrea sighed, shaking her head a little.

"Apparently so," Michonne countered her, glancing back at Andrea who had started following her. Michonne's expression was flat, but her eyes twinkled with a faint hint of amusement.

"Well. Thank you. I guess," Andrea muttered as Michonne started up the ladder.

"Of course," Michonne responded quietly.

When Andrea completed her ascent into the attic she found Michonne standing over their food. After a few moments of silent consideration she reached for a can of chick peas. She move towards the chest. Andrea studied her. Her eyes were still puzzled.

"I can't believe I slept through you moving that thing," she chuckled, running a hand through her messy blonde hair and turning her attention towards the large trunk.

"You needed to rest," Michonne repeated, arching an eyebrow at the blonde as she opened her can and popped a few of the beans into her mouth.

"Yeah, you've said as much. You should now," Andrea replied, arching her own pale brow back at her companion as she moved to inspect their selection of food. She picked out a can for herself and she shuffled back over to the pallet where she had slept. She sat and proceeded to crack open the can.

"I will," Michonne assured her as she reached for another few beans, "We can go collect some water when I wake if you're feeling up to it."

"Sure," Andrea nodded.

Michonne finished her meal before the other woman and she waited patiently for Andrea to eat her fill. Andrea rose to her feet when she was done. She stepped towards Michonne. The younger woman's eyes rose to meet hers.

"Can?" Andrea said curtly as she reached a hand out towards the other woman.

Michonne handed the trash to her and she rose to her feet then too. Andrea smirked at her.

"Sleep," she insisted, "I'll throw these out and see what else I can find downstairs while you do."

Michonne nodded, but she didn't move otherwise.

They stood a foot apart from each other, one set of eyes staring into the other for an awkward moment before they both looked away; Michonne towards the messy pile of blankets and Andrea at the floor beneath her feet.

"Sleep," Andrea insisted again, more quietly this time, as she raised a hand to squeeze Michonne shoulder lightly. Michonne tensed at the contact, and Andrea quickly pulled her had away.

She stepped away from the younger woman then and bent down to collect her boots and her bag of weapons, which she tossed over her shoulder. She glanced over at Michonne who was stepping towards the bed. She slowly settled into it, kicking off her own boots.

Michonne sat upright on the blankets and watched as Andrea moved towards the door, very strategically positioning herself over the ladder with her load for a moment, before she made her way down it. She glanced up at Michonne again and she caught the other woman staring.

"Rest, Michonne," she sathen smirking again.

Michonne tore her eyes away and she nodded. She laid her lead back and tried to eased her body into the bedding. She crossed her legs at her ankles and she tucked an arm behind her head. Then she waited, with baited breath, for Andrea to leave.

No one had watched her fall asleep in a really long time. The preparation and the execution of the chore exposed so much vulnerability, in her mind, and she found herself immensely uncomfortable at the thought of Andrea witnessing it. She tried telling herself that she was just being silly. She really did need to sleep at this point, but as hard as she tried, she couldn't relax.

She worried that Andrea might sneak back up the ladder to kill her...or to watch which an idea tht proved much more terrifying to her. She worried that the blonde might try to steal the food they'd collected, or her sword. Her hand quickly gripped the handle of her blade as she imagined Andrea slyly creeping away with it. She thought of her pets then, and she worried if the woman would end them. Michonne knew that Andrea had no clue how safe they had kept her over the months.

Try as she might she couldn't check out of _Survival_ _Mode_. She _needed_ to survive, and she had done well enough thus far by not...trusting...anyone. Michonne remembered trusting people. Mike and Terry. Her mother. Her closest friend and former lover Nicole, the woman for whom she had left a loveless marriage.

The memories were distant, however, and she couldn't seem to grab hold of the feeling the existed within them.

She sighed then and she made an excersize of repeatedly tightening every muscle in her body that she could access, before forcing the tension out of them with a deep breaths and quite a bit of focus. She sighed again and told herself that she did not want to lose the other woman's company. She tried to remind herself that humans were social creatures, meant to interact with others of their species, and she was human.

She was pretty sure she was, anyhow. Michonne wondered then if she had become something else since society had collapsed around her. She wondered if she'd become something else in all her time alone, struggling to stay alive. She wondered if she was still, in fact, human, or if she was something closer to the only company she had kept in the last few months.

She wondered a change had happened while she slept one night; while she was vulnerable.

She thought of Andrea then. She told herself that the older woman would not have stayed with her this long if she was anything less than human. She thought of Andrea looking at her, pale blue eyes full of life. She thought of Andrea grinning at her, her plush lips colored pink by living red blood. She thought of Andrea sleeping across the room from her, trusting in Michonne's humanity enough to let her guard down so that she might. Michonne decided that she was human in that moment. If she was anything less, she would not have been granted the gift of the images that presently floated around in her head.

She thought of Andrea grinning at her again and she finally fell asleep.

When she woke she found her sword still sheated and at her side, their food still in a pile a few feet from were she lay, and her pets still standing, as she discovered when she ventured down from the attic and into the house.

Andrea was sitting on the steps of the porch, cleaning her pistol. She smiled up at Michonne when she noticed her.

...

They spent the rest of their first week together much like they spent that first night and day in the house. Saying only very little to each other, eating every meal together and in silence, because as far as they understood, humans ate together, and sleeping in shifts, Andrea at night, while the other woman read, or sharpened her katana; Michonne during the day and never for more than five hours, while the other woman explored every inch of the house.

Andrea collected more blankets from the bedrooms and she found two sleeping bags in the garage, all of which she brought up into the attic. She either added them to the pallet, further cushioning it, or in the case of the bigger bedding and the sleeping bags, she set them aside for the colder nights that would surely come.

She discovered a crowbar in the garage that she claimed for herself, still not possessing much in the way of ammunition for her guns, and finding it's weight and it's reach to her liking.

She didn't find any more food, but she discovered that several of the trees surrounding the house grew pecans and peaches. She made a daily task of collecting the nuts that had fallen to the ground, an of picking the few ripe fruit that still hung from branches despite the season, however she could manage to get at them. She found mostly full bottles of ibuprofen, cold medicine, and zinc, all of which she secured for them.

She found a few books that looked interesting enough to read, and they made her wonder if Michonne would lend her the book she'd read on their first night together. They made her wonder what else Michonne had tucked away in her pack.

She found the keys to the old Volvo and the Chevy truck that were parked in the driveway and she checked their fuel levels and tire pressure, though much else to do with them mechanically dumbfounded her.

She found two changes of clothes that actually fit her well; two a pair of boot cut jeans and a pair of olive green cargo pants, as well as a heather gray thermal sweater and a white v-neck t-shirt. The clothes probably still lingered in the closet from a time when the small woman who's body lay dead in the yard had gained some weight. They freed Andeea from the comfy confines of the sweatshirt and flannel pants that hung around her body, rather unattractively, and she rejoiced. She found a few jackets and coats, as well as heavier clothes that had belonged to the man who lay dead in the yard, his rotting body sprawled on top of his wife and son's. Each day and night that passed was noticeably chillier that the one before and Andrea expected a harsh winter.

There was little else of use to them in the house, Andrea realized after two days of scouring. She spent most of her other waking hours picking through family photo albums, reading the love letters that the couple who had owned the home previously had written to each other over their years together, and wondering about her group. Wondering if they had all found each other and if they'd gone back to search for her, or of they had just kept on moving. As much as she grimaced at the thought of their not coming back for her, she knew she couldn't blame them if they hadn't, remembering the sheer numbers of dead that had attacked the group their last night on the farm.

The two women collected water from the nearby stream together twice that first week. They walked to it, Michonne insisting that the cars at their disposal would create too much noise, taking their empty plastic gallon and a bucket they'd found in the yard with them. After each trip they built a fire so that they could boil what they returned with.

Michonne ventured to the stream alone the third time and Andrea watched for the other woman's return nervously, her crowbar in her hand, her revolver at her hip, and her eyes never venturing away from place where Michonne had disappeared from. She watched for two solid hours. When she spotted her companion returning she beamed and quickly moved towards her to help with the load.

Andrea saw the first enemy walker in what felt to her like forever on the fifth day while Michonne slept. It slowly shuffled through the woods a few yards away from the clearing on which the house had been built. It seemed not to notice her as potential prey and it crossed the length of the house ahead of her.

Andrea missed the feeling of a gun in her hand. She missed pulling triggers, but she knew she couldn't justify the noise in order to kill one lonely walker, so she confidently strode towards the creature with her crowbar in her hand, and she dispatched it effortlessly with one forceful blow to the back of the head.

She looked around her for any other threats after it fell. Seeing none, she proceeded to haul the thin, frail body towards the yard. She hoisted it on top of the three corpses that already laid there.

When she told Michonne upon her waking of her encounter, the younger woman immediately moved to inspect the monster's remains, frowning as she did.

"We'll burn them tomorrow. We should take the truck and scout for any others today, while we still have light," she muttered, looking up and meeting Andrea's eyes with her own.

"Okay," Andrea responded quietly and with a nod.

"This one got too close," Michonne told her, scowling back down at the body, "It's been quiet. I don't know that we'll find others nearby, but if they are out there I want to get rid of them before they get...close. We still have food enough for another few days here, maybe a week. I'd rather not be bothered," she explained, her voice, gaze, and expression detached.

"Yeah, I get it," Andrea told her with a huff.

She crossed her arms at her chest. Michonne looked up at her. She appeared frustrated at the younger woman all of a sudden, clearly resenting the assumption that she didn't know the appropriate measures they needed to take in order to better secure their hideaway.

Michonne looked away quickly.

"Right," she mumbled, her voice betraying a little remorse, "You agreed."

"I did," Andrea whispered, her expression softening as she remembered that Michonne wasn't used to human company, "Let's go," she said then, compassion warming her eyes.

They stepped towards the house to retrieve the keys to the pick up truck. Michonne brought only her sword. Andrea tucked her revolver into the back of her jeans. She was sure to grab a handful of extra bullets which she stuffed into a pocket. She gripped the her crowbar tightly between her fingers as she followed Michonne out the front door.

They left everything else behind, including the two walkers who were still chained up inside, and they set off on their hunt.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing of The Walking Dead and I make no money off this fic. Don't sue!

**Author's Note**: Well, the show has managed to kill what inspiration I had when it came to these two, so I think I'm gonna end it here, y'all. Michonne deserves better! Wanna start working on an original piece anyhow, so I'Il needed to refocus my attentions. I might pick it up again, but no promises :P. It's been real.

...

**Ch. 5**

...

They rolled down the long gravel driveway that led away from the house, Andrea behind the wheel of the pick up. Their eyes were narrow as they inspected the woods around them for any sign of movement. They approached the gate and the dirt road that bordered the property. Andrea turned the truck in the direction from which they had traveled.

"We can stop at the bridge and work our way back to the house," Andrea muttered.

Michonne nodded, silent, her eyes peering out through the windows intently. They drove along slowly until they were just feet away from the stream that had provided them with water over the last few days, and the rusty steel bridge that crossed over it.

Andrea parked the truck and turned off the ignition. She left the keys in it, in case they found trouble and needed a quick escape. They climbed out of the vehicle quietly, Andrea gripping her crowbar, her revolver snugly settled into the waist band of her pants. Michonne's sword was sheathed, but she kept her fingers clasped around its handle.

"It came from the south?" Michonne asked Andrea as she rounded the truck to meet the other woman on the driver's side. The blonde nodded.

"Yeah, seemed like it. South, southwest maybe," Andrea replied.

"South then," Michonne whispered with a quick nod.

They walked along in silence for about fifteen minutes, seeing nothing alarming in either direction. Andrea gazed at the clear water that trickled to their right. Despite the chill in the air she longed to jump right into it. She felt cruddy. She casually sniffed her armpit and she grimaced.

"I smell...ripe," she said, breathing out a soft chuckle, "Sorry."

"I'm sure I'm as bad," Michonne muttered, her expression still serious and her eyes far away as she scanned the area around them.

"If tomorrow's warmer, maybe we can come back and wash up. There's soap at the house," Andrea suggested, glancing over at Michonne.

"Maybe," the younger woman said, her eyes squinting as she stared past Andrea and into the woods, "I don't expect that it'll get warmer, though."

"Yeah..." Andrea sighed, "We could boil some water...?" she continued, but Michonne wasn't paying attention to her, "Michonne?"

Andrea realized then that her fellow hunter had stopped walking altogether. She was staring into the woods to their left, her whole body tense. Michonne saw something. She set her jaw and tightened her grip around the handle of her blade. Andrea shot around, her own muscles tightening then and her eyelids forming slits. Michonne moved first and Andrea followed her into the woods.

They walked along quietly for several yards before they saw them. Three gaunt walkers shuffling through the leaves that had fallen onto the ground at the start of the season, and heading northeast, towards the house. The women hadn't yet caught their attention. Michonne silently gestured for Andrea to stay put, stay quiet, and to watch the area for any other threats. Andrea nodded.

Michonne crept up behind the creatures then. The walker who stood in the middle of the three only heard the leaves crinkling under her feet as she neared him, drawing her blade just two feet away. Michonne moved her sword swiftly, decapitating the walker in one swing. The other two saw her and they growled as they stepped towards her. Michonne whirled around to the right, the end of her sword held firmly in both hands. She severed the head from the second creature's body before she turned to the third in a flash, planting her blade into the top of its skull and splitting its head open straight down the middle.

Andrea watched in awe as Michonne effortlessly exterminated the three beasts in just seconds. She was lost in her admiration of the other woman's skill and brutality; so lost that she almost failed to notice a fourth walker who stood about ten yards to her left. It grumbled and it hissed as it started shuffling towards her. The sound snapped her back into the present. She glared and approached it fearlessly. With two powerful blows to the temple it fell.

Michonne walked back towards her, sword in her hand. Andrea smirked, meeting her dark eyes.

"Seriously, where the hell did you learn to use that thing?" she asked, her eyes shifting to look down at the blade.

"I taught myself," Michonne responded flatly, shrugging, "When everything started going to shit. Figured it could come in handy."

"Uh huh. You _taught yourself_, just like that?" Andrea asked incredulously, arching a pale brow, "You didn't think to just...I don't know...pick up a gun? Like the rest of us?"

"Guns are more trouble than they're worth," Michonne responded, arching her own dark brow back at the other woman, "This is quieter."

Andrea's smirk widened.

"Yeah, well," she started, "I like guns. I'm good with guns," she continued, somewhat cockily, "That may be quieter, but it also forces you a whole lot closer."

"Yeah, well," Michonne countered, a tiny grin appearing on her lips, the first Andrea had ever seen. Michonne paused and scanned the area one more time before she started back towards the creek, "This suits me just fine."

Andrea's smirk turned into a wide smile as she stepped in line behind Michonne.

"I won't argue that," she said, as she ran her free hand through her hair, "You're brilliant with it."

Andrea walked next to her now, having matched her long stride with Michonne's. She looked over at the other woman, trying for eye contact which Michonne managed to evade expertly, as she shrugged off Andrea's compliment.

"We should go south a little further, then north past the truck for awhile," Michonne suggested, "We can look around the other end of the property tomorrow, but we only have about an hour of daylight left."

"Sounds good,"Andrea sighed.

Michonne was all business again and Andrea found herself a frustrated with that fact. She really wanted to get a better sense of the woman who had saved her life days ago, and who had guarded her while she slept since. She wanted to know more about her; more than the business end of things. Andrea wanted to know what had inspired the small grin Michonne had graced her with earlier. What had been in Andrea's voice, or her inflection; in her choice of words that inspired a tiny light to shine through Michonne reinforced inner walls.

The grin had proven a revelation to Andrea.

Michonne was Andrea's person now. Neither had made move or mention of parting from each other's company yet, and as far as Andrea could tell, neither of them intended to. She planned to stay with Michonne, and as determined as she was to be of use; as determined as she was to watch Michonne's back, she decided then that she was just as determined to see more grins, and even actual smiles from her companion.

They walked in silence, patrolling further south for about a half mile before they turned back towards the truck and continued past it, weapons at the ready.

"What did you do before all of this, Michonne?" Andrea asked the other woman with a smile, still as energized by the memory of Michonne's slip as she was by her recent kill.

"Why?" Michonne asked, furrowing her brow.

"I don't know," Andrea shrugged, "Curious, I guess."

"I try not to think about it," Michonne whispered, looking over at her, "Doesn't matter."

"I disagree," Andrea said, "I think it says a lot about a person, about their resourcefulness...their ability."

"Things have changed. People have changed. There is a garbage man out there somewhere keeping his kids alive, while the greatest military minds have become some dead fuck's lunch," Michonne argued, her voice slightly above a whisper now, "It doesn't matter."

"You were a garbage collecter then?" Andrea murmured, and Michonne chuckled under her breath. Andrea beamed at her, "Really, though. What were you...before all this? Before you found that sword?"

Michonne looked down at her blade, her brow crinkling further. The small smile that lit up her features after her quiet laugh fading. She looked back up at Andrea as they walked, her expression hard again.

"I try not to think about it," she muttered.

Andrea couldn't believe that it just didn't matter. She'd sat around too many fires, reminiscing about the good old days with her last group, to believe that it just didn't matter. Michonne had shut her out again, however, so she decided not to push. She figured she would share. Maybe in doing so she would inspire as much in turn.

"I was an attorney," Andrea told her companion as her blue eyes peered beyond the creek and into the woods on the other side.

"_Shocking_," Michonne whispered, not missing a beat.

Andrea laughed. A loud belly laugh that caused a bird to shoot up into the sky from the branches over them. Michonne jerked and she swung around to look in the direction from which it had ascended. There were no threats; no walkers. She turned back to Andrea, glaring...and grinning.

"Shhh..." the younger woman warned.

"I was a damn good one too," Andrea whispered jokingly.

Michonne nodded, still grinning.

"I have no doubt," she told the blonde, "Real estate? Corporate contracts?"

"Civil rights," Andrea answered, her own smile faltering slightly, "Human rights."

"Interesting," Michonne said as she initiated their return to the truck , gesturing her intent to Andrea with a curt nod.

"Really?" Andrea asked, "Do I look like a real estate lawyer, honestly? Would I have made it this long?"

"No," Michonne smirked then, "You don't."

"Well, thank god," Andrea rolled her eyes, feigning relief.

"I wouldn't have pegged you for a bleeding heart people's lawyer either, though," Michonne muttered.

Andrea chuckled.

"Yeah well," Andrea countered, smiling, "You said you were from Atlanta...that first day. Did you grow up there?"

"I try not to think about it, Andrea," Michonne whispered.

"Ah. Right," Andrea whispered back at her.

They said nothing else as they continued walking towards the truck, and they climbed into it and drove back to the house in silence. Andrea was quiet, but she was also delighted. She couldn't seem to wipe her small smile from her face. She hadn't gotten very far with Michonne, but knew she had gotten somewhere. She'd gotten the other woman to grin. She had gotten her to chuckle and joke with her, and she felt immensely accomplished.

Michonne was unnerved, but Andrea's delight was proving annoyingly contagious. She had gotten to kill three walkers on their short journey away from the comforts of the house which served to lighten even her worst moods, so despite the discomfort that she felt at the moment, she also felt strangely pleasant.

Andrea had nudged, but she hadn't forced Michonne to open up to her. She was trying to assess and respect Michonne's boundaries, which the black woman appreciated more than she could convey. Michonne did not want to think about her life before the fall. She didn't want to think of her own legal career, of past lovers, or of her adoring mother and the aunts who helped raise her. She didn't want to think of her education, or of the cat she'd bottle raised, who warmed her feet every night for three years before he was mangled by the next door neighbor; a kind old man who Michonne had considered a friend before he was taken by the thing that took everyone and everything else from her.

It hurt too much to think about.

She kept Mike and Terry's walking corpses with her for practical purposes, but also because every time she looked at them; every time she forced herself to acknowledge what the men she knew and loved had become; she acknowledged that her life before the fall was as dead as they were.

Reminiscing served no practical purpose.

They completed the short trip back to the house as the sun started to set. Andrea parked the truck at the end of the driveway and they climbed out of it, both instinctively looking around the property for any sign of danger as they stepped towards the front of the house. Andrea smirked over at her companion when they reached the porch, Michonne had become practiced at not looking at Andrea during this part of every day thus far. The sight of the other woman bathed in neon pink and orange light reminded her too much of one of those people she didn't want to think about; of memories she didn't want to think about. This was the first evening Andrea actually noticed the other woman's severe discomfort and avoidance, and she furrowed her brow, her smirk fading.

"You okay?" Andrea asked, her hand reaching out and gently squeezing Michonne's forearm.

Michonne jerked a little at the touch, and Andrea drew her arm away quickly, her expression growing more worried as she did. Michonne lifted her eyes to meet the other woman reluctantly and remorsefull.

"Yeah," she choked quietly, "It's just..." she paused before continuing, not wanting to honestly confess the reason for her sudden change in mood, but feeling as though she needed to say something to save face, "It's getting cold. Quick. Just thinking about winter."

Andrea smiled, her eyes warming kindly towards the younger woman.

"We'll be okay," she whispered, her voice sounding more optimistic than she actually felt about the subject, despite the warm clothing she'd found in the house.

"Yeah," Michonne muttered, dropping her eyes to the ground again.

"We should eat," Andrea said quietly before climbing the porch steps and stepping into the house. She turned back to look at Michonne who had not moved an inch. Her expression was troubled and her eyes were still on the ground. The sight pained the older woman, "Michonne?" she whispered again.

Michonne's eyes shot up to meet hers.

"Right," she choked.

"I'll boil down what water we have left and actually cook some food tonight," Andrea informed her, smiling as she hugged her jacket tightly around her upper body, "You're right, it's getting colder. Warm food in your stomach might ease your worries, tonight at least."

"That sounds good. It's quiet out there," Michonne muttered, following Andrea up the steps then.

"Are you sure you're okay," Andrea asked then, turning back to face Michonne, concern written across her features.

"Yeah," Michonne sighed, netting Andrea's eyes firmly, "I just..."

She paused, not quite knowing how much she wanted to tell the other woman, but also not wanting Andrea to fuss over her.

"I'm okay. I just really try not to think about...before," she whispered, holding Andrea's icy blue gaze.

"Oh," Andrea breathed quietly, feeling a sudden surge of guilt rush through her, "Okay. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be," Michonne insisted, shaking her head a little as she reached out to reassure Andrea with a quick squeeze to her upper arm, before awkwardly settling her hand back at her hip, "I'm fine."

"You're sure?" Andrea pressed.

"Yes," Michonne nodded.

"Okay," Andrea sighed, turning away from Michonne and moving towards the attic to gather their dinner for the night.

Michonne watched her from the hallway, still painfully tense, but desperately trying to relax to avoid further awkwardness between them. She hooked her thumbs on the belt loops of her pants while she waited for Andrea to descend, glancing over at the two walkers who were chained in the living room still, an who were both watching her intently. She glared at them.

"Shut it," she hissed. Both creatures grumbled at her and shifted on their feet.

"I'm sorry," Andrea called back towards the younger woman as she started down the ladder, "What? I didn't hear you."

"Oh. Nothing," Michonne mumbled, stepping towards Andrea to relieve her of the jug of water she carried down with their food.

"Oh, okay. So rice and beans?" Andrea chuckled, holding up a bag of dried rice and a can of kidney beans, "Or, um...rice and beans?" she added holding up another can of kidney beans.

Michonne grinned, eyeing the selection.

"You pick. I insist," she chuckled then too, and Andrea beamed at her.

"Well," Andrea started, moving back towards the front door ahead of Michonne, "The rice and beans look delectable, but I'm gonna have go with the rice and beans tonight. It's my favorite, after all."

"Excellent choice," Michonne murmured, following Andrea out the door and towards the fire pit she'd dug in the yard their second day together.

Andrea set the food down and proceeded to gather fresh wood for a fire from a pile they had collected, glancing over at Michonne every for seconds as she did. The younger woman set the plastic jug down and she reached for the pot they had been using to sterilize their water thus far, moving it within easy reach of the other woman.

"So," Andrea started, placing pieces of wood from the large bundle she now held down into the pit, "I guess I'll have to rethink my default 'Getting to Know You' routine when it comes to you then."

Michonne looked over at Andrea as the blonde stepped back towards the pile for more wood. She shrugged apologetically, but she didn't say anything.

"That's fine," Andrea huffed, reaching for another log, "I'll just have to get creative," she finished, smirking as she turned back to Michonne, who gave her a small smile.

A strong gust of cold wind blew straight through them then, causing both women to tremble and clench their jaws. The sun had set and the evening sky only held faint traces of the light that it took with it now. They tightened their jackets around their body's and they shared a grimace.

"You said you were on a farm before I met you," Michonne said then, eager to shift the topic of the conversation Andrea seemed determined to have away from her, "You were with other survivors?"

"Oh...yeah, I was," Andrea answered, caught off guard by the question and instantly saddened by it, "With a group. We'd been together for a couple of months. Since it all started."

"And you got separated from them?" Michonne asked then more quietly.

"I did," Andrea sighed, crumpling up some newspaper and tucking it into the wooden stack she had constructed, "The walkers that were following me; there was a herd of them. Hundreds of them. They just showed up that night and overran the place," she said, pulling a box of matched from her pocket.

"How did you lose them?" Michonne asked, moving next to Andrea to help provide some cover from the wind.

"My friends?" Andrea muttered.

"Yeah," Michonne clarified.

"I...Carol," Andrea sighed, "One of the other women was trapped by the shed. She was surrounded. I was able to take down enough of them for her to get away, I think, but one of them fell forward onto me and I had to struggle for a bit to get out from under it," she paused before continuing a small frown settling on her face, "They must have thought...well, I really don't know what they thought, but when I finally got up they were all gone, or going."

"Going?" Michonne asked then, arching an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Andrea continued, "Rick. He was kind of the group's leader. I don't really remember when we all decided on that though," she chuckled, "Anyway, I saw him driving away and I yelled for him, but I don't think he heard me."

Michonne was listening quietly, watching Andrea's expressions and noting her inflections as she spoke. The blonde obviously bore some resentment towards her last group for leaving her, but she also seemed to care for them, immensely. She spoke cautiously, careful not to let too much anger shine through, or too much of the guilt that was also there, just under the surface. Guilt for past disagreements, or difficult behavior on her part.

"I was really close to one of the men that we'd lost to a walker shortly before the farm was taken," Andrea muttered then, her eyes far away, "I really wish he would have been there that night. We weren't on the best terms when he died, but he would have watched my back."

They were silent for several moments, watching the few sparks they had birthed grown into a fine specimen of a fire. Andrea huffed and frowned deeply, before she eased her expression and allowed a tiny grin to grace her pink lips.

"Well," she laughed softly, "That was depressing."

"A bit," Michonne smirked.

"Ugh," Andrea grumbled, still smiling, "Depressing and in the past. I just...I hope they're all okay. They were good people...a good group."

"They should have had your back," Michonne murmured, her eyes set on Andrea's face firmly. Their depth and intensity in that moment caused a small lump to form in Andrea's throat, and her eyes to sting.

"Well," Andrea choked, "We didn't always see eye to eye, especially towards the end."

"Doesn't matter," Michonne whispered, "They should have had your back."

Andrea sighed, easing a strudy grate over the fire and placing the pot of water on top of it carefully. She sat back on her haunches, quiet for a moment, lost in though and memory, sorting through her regrets. Michonne studied her. Andrea glanced over at her after a few moments and she gave her a sad smile.

"You haven't had anyone with you?" the older woman asked quietly, "This whole time?"

"No," Michonne whispered.

"Well," Andrea started, smiling and locking her eyes with the other woman's, "You've got me now."


End file.
